Rigorous Honesty and a Day Count Reset ☹️

rigerous honesty

I have finally owned up to the fact that I can no longer say that I have 1213 days of sobriety.  This has been a tough one for me.  Since I quit drinking on 11/30/13, I have taken opiates four times, an addiction I don’t readily own up to. I took them for the same reasons I used to drink, to not feel something that was painful.  It is the same behavior as drinking to mask my feelings,  I took the pills to make something less of a THING. To make it go away, however briefly.

I have gone back to AA and am giving it 100 percent effort this time around. When I first got sober, I did it online for the first three months, white knuckling it with the WordPress sober community.  I then decided to try an AA meeting. I found one where no one asked anything of me. No coffee making, no greeting, no commitment. Also no offers of sponsorship, nor did I asks. I just went one night a week, sat in a chair, said nothing, then went home. Just going through the motions.

I had a sponsor, but she lived in a different state, so we weren’t connected geographically, and were unable to attend meetings together. We weren’t able to get together in person and discuss my new sobriety the way I can with my new sponsor.

My current sponsor is tough, she expects a daily telephone call, and she expects me to show up at meetings, regularly. No half assing it this time.  I have been doing that, because there has been a hole in my sobriety. Without the meetings, I was back to white knuckling it, and just going through the motions. I wasn’t drinking, but if given the chance or the opportunity, I would happily gulp down a pain pill.

What I have found by attending meetings for the last three months is that  I was missing was the rigorous honesty. When you don’t have to be accountable for your behavior, you give yourself a pass and rationalize away anything.  And I have. I have done that four times when I have chosen to take opiates.

I have attended a lot of meetings in the last few months. I have been listening, and I have heard people tell on themselves repeatedly. I kept hearing the phrase rigorous honesty. It has stirred something deep in me, I have not been honest with myself, or within the program, and now it was time to own up to it.

In my mind I had kept my two addictions in separate places, never admitting the pills were as bad as the alcohol. I was sober because I didn’t drink. I kept up my day count. Nothing was going to stop my streak. Somehow, I discounted the pills, they weren’t my REAL addiction, so I kept going after each pill relapse as though nothing happened.

Except this time it was different, I had a new sponsor, I had to tell on self. That is what we do. When I first asked her if I should reset my day count, she said she felt that I was a bit too fragile and new at the program to do that, and we could let it go. But I can’t. The more meetings I go to, the more I realize that I have to reset my sobriety date. As I have relapsed, not once, but four different times. The pills and the alcohol are the same, they are both an addiction and they belong in the same bucket.

This morning I told my sponsor that I felt I needed to reset the date. The continued talk of rigorous honesty was getting to me. I am not being honest, I am a liar. I have not been sober for 1213 days, I have been cheating.

It is time to own up to it. I don’t want to, in fact it makes me cringe and cry. I can’t even think about getting another 30 day, 60 day, 90 day chip, it just makes me so sad. I am told I will feel better once I admit this. It will be a weight off, it will be the beginning, again, this time with rigorous honesty.

 

 

 

So What Really Happens in an Alcoholics Anonymous Meeting? by Jean-Paul Bedard

aa_logo_2I wish I had read this prior to my first AA meeting, it would have been very helpful and alleviated some of my knee knocking fear.

No one, and mean no one, walks through the doors of their first Alcoholics Anonymous meeting feeling “happy, joyous, and free.” The prospect of spending countless hours in damp church basements and community centers, in the company of other twitching, coffee-swilling addicts doesn’t do much to warm the soul.

By the time I found my way to the rooms of AA, I was desperate to try anything, but truth be told, I came in looking for a way out. There was no denying I had a drinking problem, but like most people in recovery rooms, my addiction was merely a symptom of a much more deeply rooted problem. Alcoholism is cunning in that it is an illness that continually whispers and enchants by trying to convince the addict that you are different; you can have just one, and this time you’ll be able to control yourself. The irony is that the alcohol never solves anything — It just buries problems and feelings that invariably bubble their way to the surface like a festering boil.

And here in lies the problem — every alcoholic is an unwitting player acting out his or her part not in a tragic comedy, but in a comic tragedy. The best description I’ve ever read about the insanity of alcoholism comes from Dr. Vincent Felitti, who said: “It is hard to get enough of something that almost works.” That is certainly how it played out for me. From the first drink to my last alcoholic binge, I was chasing a solution that never quite worked. It is in this space of “not quite working” that the greatest devastation unfolds in the alcoholic’s personal and professional life. There is not an active alcoholic on the planet who doesn’t cause collateral damage. Like ripples in a pond, the chaotic dissonance is far-reaching.

When I finally reached that point of being sick and tired of feeling sick and tired, I grudgingly agreed to give Alcoholics Anonymous a try. Although I was willing to go to any lengths to get my drink or drug, the same could not be said for my foray into recovery. I’m an addict, so naturally I want the quickest fix possible. I called the 1-800 number in the phone book, and asked the polite lady on the other end of the phone if she could send out some AA pamphlets to me in the mail. At that point, I was still convinced I could get sober simply by reading the “How-To Guide.” Surprise… It doesn’t work that way. The volunteer on the phone asked me where I lived, and she told me that there was a meeting just down the street from me starting in a couple of hours.

When the time came, I walked down the street towards a group of men and women smoking and laughing on the sidewalk near the side entrance to the church basement. Careful not to make any eye contact whatsoever, I slipped past the group and made my way to the door, where I was greeted by a guy, who must have been a bouncer in his former life, who said: “Welcome to the Friendly Group. Grab a coffee and grab a seat.”

Many of you may be wondering what an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting looks like, so let me give you a quick AA primer. I’ve been to meetings throughout North America and some in Europe, and generally, they all follow the same format. There are two types of AA meetings: closed meetings and open meetings. Open meetings are exactly what they sound like — they are open to alcoholics and to anyone else who wants to attend. Typically, after the initial announcements, and the reading of the 12 Steps and12 Traditions of Alcoholics Anonymous, one alcoholic will come up to the front and share his or her story of strength, hope, and recovery. On the other hand, closed meetings are for alcoholics and for those who think they may have a problem with alcohol. These meetings also begin with the reading of the 12 Steps and 12 Traditions, and are followed by a group reading or discussion based on one of the steps or traditions, or a topic related to recovery.

I’ve been attending AA meetings for almost 18 years now, and in that entire time, I’ve managed to stay clean and sober one day at a time. After the thousands of hours I’ve spent in recovery meetings, I can say I’m certain of only a few things. First, despite what many people believe, AA is not a cult. It’s just a group of alcoholics trying to figure out how to stay sober by helping the next guy or gal stay sober. Two, no matter how shitty I feel before walking into a meeting, I always feel a little better after it’s over. Three, going to meetings is like holding up a mirror to your sobriety. It’s impossible to see the changes in me since I’ve stopped drinking, but by looking around the room at others with different amounts of sobriety and encountering varying struggles and joys, I’m able to see myself in each and every other person in the room. And finally, having to sit in a chair for 60 or 90 minutes and listen to other alcoholics as they listen to me, is a much needed lesson in patience.

Eighteen years later, I still have days where I desperately want a drink, but I remind myself that no matter how bad I’m feeling and no matter what problem I have, if I pick up that first drink, I’ll still have that problem, but now I’ll be right back in the caustic belly of my addiction. Today I consider myself a grateful alcoholic, and I now realize that I don’t have a drinking problem — I have a living problem.

Originally posted on Huffington Post 1/15/2015

The Promises

promises

I had to get up at 4:30 this morning to get my husband to the airport by 6 am for a 7 am flight.  This is the first time he has taken this flight since I have gotten sober.  Having to drive him to the airport for this particular flight used to be my worst nightmare.

A lot of strategizing had to go into my drinking the night prior.  I wanted to be alert enough and not feeling too crappy when I had to get up at that god for saken hour.  Logistics and planning were important. I wanted to get drunk, but not TOO drunk.   It was all about obtaining that certain level of numbness, drunkenness, and inebriation.  Once that level was reached, I was successful,  the goal has been achieved, and therefore I could go to bed.

I would then take my two Alleve, and a Valium hoping to stave off a nasty hangover, especially with the “sleep” time being cut short.  I would awaken throughout the night to check the time to see how much longer I could lie prone, my body doing something that was supposed to resemble sleep.

I still woke up, every time, feeling like crap.  I would drag my butt to the coffee pot, slug down two cups, put on sweats and load into the car.  Half drugged on the Valium, half hung over.  I couldn’t wait to get this god awful chore over with so that I could go back to bed.

I would drop him off quickly, and head home.  Once there I would take another Valium and go back to bed for however long my alcohol ravaged body would let me rest on this go round.

What a way to live, huh?

What a difference 339 days makes.  When the alarm went off at 4:30, I walked out and got a cup of coffee.  I then went back into the bedroom where I made the bed, washed my face and put on my running clothes.

I sat down at my computer, read my email, cruised through Facebook, and took a quick glance at WordPress.  It was time to go, I grabbed my list of things to do off my desk, along with my Ipod, a to go coffee and got in the drivers seat.  I had the hubs at the airport by 5:50, and was walking in the door of Wal-Mart at 6am.  (BTW, great time to shop, NO ONE is in there, imagine??)  I got the shopping done, and headed to Lowes where I picked up the brackets I needed to put the shelf that collapsed in the closet back up.  (NO ONE is in Lowes at 7am either, just an FYI)

I was at the park for my run by 7:45.  I pounded out 4.5 miles, and arrived right on time for my doctor’s appointment at 8:45.

The wait to see my doctor put a huge crimp in my schedule, but nonetheless, I was home by 11am. I took a shower,  ate some lunch and went to work in the closet.  I had that project completed, along with a closet purge by 2pm.  I looks great, organized, color coordinated.  It put me in my happy place.

I vacuumed the living room and kitchen, and then decided to sit down. I looked around and thought, wow I have accomplished a lot today, and I am not exhausted, a bit tired of course, but I can manage until bedtime.

I then thought about The AA Promises.  I had been to a lot of Promises meetings over the summer. People qualifying about how great their lives have gotten since they got sober, and how the The Promises have come true.  Not every day, but they are there.  I kept thinking to myself, when am I going to feel that good about being sober?  When are the Promise’s going to show themselves to me?

I saw them today, today was an incredible day.  I never would have had this day if I was still guzzling white wine like it was Kool Aid.

Today, the Promises came true.  Today, I am truly grateful to be sober.

#runfie

#runfie

Keeping it Green

god

 

I live every sober day with the fear of relapse.  It is always in the back of my mind.  For all 333 days of sobriety, I have had 333 days of fear, fear of drinking again.

I often think that at this point in my sobriety, closing in on a year, I should not still be having cravings  feeling triggers, or still be thinking about drinking, but I do and I am.  This makes me nervous, and that translates into fear.

I am still aware of the drinking going on around me.  I am not as hypervigilant as I was in the beginning, but it is still there.  There are still certain visual triggers.  Certain bottles of wine, names of vineyards, and family gatherings are all palatable trigger points.

I was at my home group meeting two weeks ago, and a gentleman shared a story.  He was at a meeting where a man received his 19 year medallion.  The holiday season was in full swing, and the man with 19 years disappeared from the weekly meeting he always attended.  A month went by, he returned and picked up a 24 hour chip.

He had seen a holiday advertisment for Kahlua and coffee.  He went out, bought a bottle of Kahlua, and proceeded to have just ONE.  The next thing he remembers is waking up in detox.

I sat there flabbergasted.  Thinking to myself, HOW DOES THAT HAPPEN???  WILL THAT HAPPEN TO ME??  WHEN WILL IT HAPPEN??

This past Monday night, I went to my home group with 12 the Hard Ways post, Back to Zero fresh in my mind.  I was having a pre meeting meeting with one of the old timers.  I was telling her about the blog post, and how it affected me, and how afraid I was that it was eventually and inevitably going to happen to me.

The meeting moderator asked for a topic for discussion, she threw COMPLACENCY  and relapse on the table.

The discussion was enlightening.

I constantly hear the old timers say that staying sober has to be the number one priority of every day.  I had listened to that so many times, but until Monday night’s discussion, I never really HEARD it.

My home group is mostly made up of old timers.  The stories and the wisdom are fascinating.  Everyone had a relapse story.  Either their own or someone they had met along the way.

Each story ended the same way.  The person in recovery stopped tending to their sobriety.  They stopped going to meetings.  They stopped doing their readings, they stopped meditating, the stopped tending the garden of sobriety.  They stopped keeping it green.

Instead of getting up each day and doing the work, they told themselves; I got this, no problem.  They became complacent.

As they were sharing, I began to think, great, more work to do.  Then I realized, I am doing the work.  I do it every day.  I read sober blogs, my daily meditation, my Big Book, and my 12 & 12.  I go to recovery websites, I read sober posts on Twitter, and Facebook.  I text or talk to my incredible sponsor.

What I learned is I need to work at this program, come hell or high water.  Whether my mother is dying, or my son is under- employed and living in my house, or I am knocked around by any of the other obstacles that life throws at me.  I have to do the work to stay sober, every day.  I can’t take a chance on thinking, I will do that work tomorrow, because that is the day I will end up drinking.  I can’t become complacent.

I often wondered why my home group was filled with so many people with an amazing accumulation of years sober.  Why did they still have to come to meetings?  Aren’t they bored with the program after so many years?  They may be but they can’t afford to become complacent.

I have worked very hard to get here.  The fear of relapse is still there, but now I look at it as a positive emotion, it will remind me to do the work that will keep me sober.

I have to keep working, because it only works if you work it.

I have to keep it green.

 

green

 

 

THANK YOU

As I was drifting off to sleep last night, I was thinking about how much my life has changed since getting sober.  The first change being that I was DRIFTING OFF TO SLEEP, not passing out.  There are times that sleep comes quickly, and other nights I lie there and thoughts drift through my head.  This is what came to me last night.

I want to THANK each and every one of you who has taken time to read my blog, follow my story, and add comments.

thank

The evening I read the Good Housekeeping article about Amy from Soberbia, and Belle from Tired of Thinking about Drinking, was life changing.  I emailed Belle from the gym the next day, where I was trying to sweat out another hang over.  I WAS Tired of Thinking about Drinking, sick and tired.  I told her I was ready to start the 100 day Challenge, sign me up.

Unfortunately, there was still a half of a bottle of wine in the refrigerator, I drank it, as any good alcoholic would, because it should not go to waste, and who else would get rid of it if I didn’t?

The next day, I had to email Belle and tell her to restart my Day 1.  That day was 11/30/2013.  I have not had a drink since.

I relied on Belle and her Team 100 for quite some time.  As I got deeper into the blogging world, I began to read about AA and what a fantastic program it was, and how many people had found kindred souls and fantastic mental help through the program.  It took me about 3 weeks to get enough courage to walk through the doors.

I threw myself into the program.  I went and bought the books, started the reading, attended all sorts of meetings trying to find the place I could call home.  I had some good experiences and some bad ones, but I kept at it until I found that comfortable spot and people I could relate to.

I then went on a quest for a sponsor.  One of the men at my home meeting gave me his wife’s number.  We met, but did not click.  I posted about my struggle to find a sponsor, and a wonderful sober blogger offered to do it.  She became my sponsor in April, and I haven’t looked back.

Ours is an unusual situation, I would imagine.  We live in different states.  We have had to make our relationship work via email, text and telephone.  I remember how fast my heart was beating during our first telephone call, I was scared.   Since that time, she has become not only my sponsor, but my confidant, my close friend, and my true north.  We finally got to meet during my travels this summer, and it was like we had been friends forever.  Thank you, M, I truly love you.

Thank you to all of you.  Thank you to Belle, Amy, to Christy at  Running on Sober, to Paul at Message in A Bottle and Jeni, who all helped me in early sobriety.  I mean really, really helped me, as in throwing me continuous life preservers while drowning help.

Thank you to all the other wonderful bloggers who have stopped by to leave me tidbits of wisdom while I wind my way down this ever changing path of sobriety.  I truly would not be here without you.  I begin and end my days reading your words..  Every one of you have added some wisdom to some part of my journey.

I wouldn’t be here without you.  Thank you.  I am truly blessed to have found this wonderful world.

Step 6: Removing Defects of Character

I am still trying to work my way through the steps of AA. They have sort of taken a back burner to some of the other things that are happening in my life right now.

I know I have many, but some I can not give up. Such as changing my sheets every Saturday.

I am currently working on control and patience. Two of my major defects.

I like everything my way, control.

I want everything to move at my pace, impatience.

That being said, this has been sitting in the middle of my bedroom floor for 7 days. (I unpack the minute we walk in the door, just to be clear about whose this is…NOT MINE.)

2014-09-30 14.24.02

I have not unpacked it…control.

I have not said anything about it…patience.

I have had my passive-aggressive moments. Such as putting fresh laundry back in there instead of in the dresser or closet.

How many days before it is officially called a dresser?

Living My Best Sober Life

I heard this twice at today’s meeting.  I have never heard it before.

I do not think I am doing that.

I am not even sure how to do it.

Any thoughts?

 

Afterthought:

There was a lot of talk about mail yesterday.  Opening mail, not opening mail, leaving mail in piles, and being afraid of mail.  I was lost.

And dogs, do all recovering alcoholics have dogs?  How do dogs relate to recovery?

290 Days Today

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I still can’t believe it.

Some thoughts about sobreity so far:

  • I can’t believe it is day 290.  In the early days if someone had said I would be sitting here still sober, AND in AA, I would have said something to the effect of…yeah right, sure, no way, and I AM NOT and alcoholic
  • I never  believed that it ACTUALLY DOES GET EASIER.  Not all the time, not every day, but if I step back and look at the big picture, yes, it is easier.
  • I white knuckled the first 73 days, but who was counting?  I spent a lot of mental and emotional energy deciding to go or not to go to AA. Back and forth, back and forth.  It was one of the scariest decisions I have ever made, but one of the best.  I am still befuddled by a lot of the God and Higher Power stuff, but I am working MY program the only way I know how.
  • Trying to find a sponsor was SO hard, but I found one right here in sober blogging land. We both took a leap of faith that this would work, and it has, beautifully.  She is one of the most amazing, graceful, knowledgeable, and wonderful people I have ever met. She has helped me in ways I didn’t even know I needed help. I got very lucky, and as Paul would say, she is a God Shot, for sure!
  • I worry about relapse at least once a day.
  • I still have immense cravings at random times, overpowering, almost crippling, and they bring me to tears, because I want them GONE!
  • I have my day count typed into my Google Calendar, it is the first thing I see on my phone every morning.  It is the push I need to know I can get through one more day, I need to see one higher number the next morning.  It is my reminder that it still is one day at a time.
  • I am filling my God box with little slips of paper, but still somehow forget that I need to accept the things I can’t change.  Then I realize  the things I want to change are things I can’t change, even though I am working hard to get them to change. So that whole serenity thing is still an elusive butterfly I am running around the backyard trying to net.
  • I am strong.  I never would have used that adjective about myself, but now I do.  I have been through so many things this summer where picking up a glass of wine would have been so easy.  Yet I didn’t.  I have tools that have made me strong, and they make it possible for me to fight against those urges.  I didn’t feel that way 290 days ago, so I have that going for me.
  • I am still working on the chronic people pleasing, and the self loathing.  It is a daily thing, some days are better than others.
  • Negative thinking is never going to get me where I want to be. I have to constantly remind myself of that.  It is so easy to get pulled into that rabbit hole.
  • I am learning to keep my head where my feet are.
  • The best for last:  MY HUSBAND HAS STOPPED DRINKING  TOO!!  It is so much better this way.  I don’t know if it will last, he is a “normie”, but I like it, and it feels like solidarity.  Our relationship has improved immensely since I quit drinking, and it has gotten even better since he has stopped as well.

I still haven’t gotten my 9 month chip.  I guess it will have to wait until my next visit with my home group.  My sponsor passed on hers, which is awesome, but I would like my own.  (My home group ones are cheesy poker chips, but still.)

75 days to one year.

Suicide is NOT painless

 

I have discovered hundreds of reasons why I never went to nursing school.  I would have to say empathy is not my strong suit.  It is a definite shortcoming, and I am not sure it is curable.

So far, my mother has rejected her diagnosis.  She wants nothing to do with chemotherapy,she has stated she has no desire to live, that her time is up, what is the purpose of it all, and maybe she should just do herself in.

My brother and I have talked her into trying one cycle of chemo, and the nurse practitioner promised her she would feel better.  She agreed.  But, with my mother, what she says is not always what she means.  One story for one person, another for someone else.

I have spent two weeks working on spreadsheets of medications and timetables of treatment, which seem to change daily. I have gotten hooks, and hung the sheets next to her cabinet where she keeps all her medications.  I have written and printed them in 20 point font so that she can see them, as her eyesight is going.  2014-08-20 15.35.12

She has yet to look at anything related to her course of therapy.  I have made the directions so easy a 10 year old could follow it.  Every time I hand anything to her, she says she just can’t do it, makes a noise of disgust, and chucks the papers on the floor.

I am trying to PP (practice patience), trying to give her space and time to wrap her head around this news.  That said, I have limited time here, and I need her to get engaged in this so that I will feel comfortable leaving her alone.  I need to feel sure she will take the medications at the proper times so as not to interrupt the treatment schedule.

On Monday, she expressed a desire to end her life in front of the oncology nurse.  This has been a theme in her life since my father walked out 35 years ago.  We, her children, are so used to her threatening to “drive into a bridge abutment, stick her head in the oven, just end it all”, that none of us take it seriously.  I had planned to discuss her change in tone about suicide at her next General Practitioner appointment. Her comment on Monday saved me from having to have that awkward discussion.  The oncologist called in a prescription for an antidepressant.  She started on that today, which leads me to the bottom line of this post.

My mother is a hard core alcoholic.  She has been for 50+ years.  She drinks copious amounts of anything, mostly bourbon and wine, nightly.  The hospitalization stopped that for a week and two days.  Right before chemotherapy, she drank.  She drank 3/4 of a bottle of wine.  Pretty heavy coming off a week of iv’s, blood thinners, anemia, and partial kidney failure.

During our first chemotherapy session, I inquired about alcohol intake.  The nurse looked at me like I had two heads, there was a long pause, and then she said, yes she can drink, but VERY LIMITED.

I have been shocked by my mother, she seemed to take it to heart.  I have yet to see her have anything alcoholic.

Until last night.  I was in my little room, reading a book, when I heard a glass being filled with ice.  It was after 9 pm,unusual, unless she is drinking alcohol, she doesn’t drink anything after 9 pm.  I made a mental note to check the wine bottle this morning when I got up.

I was elated to see I was wrong, no wine was gone from the open bottle in the refrigerator.  Never happier to be wrong!

As I ran this morning it hit me..the bourbon.  I forgot to check the bourbon bottle.  Sure enough, it wasn’t facing the way I had left it when I was in that cabinet looking for something, and some was gone.

I now know what people mean when they use the term blinded by rage.  I was.  I immediately texted my sponsor with the question, should I confront her?  Of course I didn’t wait the 30 seconds it took for her reply with the answer, NO.  I asked her,  AND SHE LIED!!!

Of course she lied, she is an alcoholic.  I lied, you lied, we all lied.  It is what we do.

Now I am once again sitting on a mountain of resentment.

All of the hours behind the wheel of a car, all of  the planning, all of the  scheduling, all of the emotional and physical energy we are ALL spending to keep this woman alive, and she is drinking. SHE IS FUCKING DRINKING WHILE TAKING CHEMOTHERAPY!!!  WTF is the point?

Why have I put my life on hold, why is my brother working so hard to find her a place near him, why are we emailing, talking and texting constantly about this woman? Why is this our only topic of discussion, our sole focus of the energy of our lives right now?

I can make it impossible for her to drink for the rest of the time I am here.

I have taken away the Ambien and dispense one nightly so she won’t swallow the whole bottle.

I have added the antidepressant to her medication list with bold letters stating DO NOT DRINK WHILE ON THIS MEDICATION.

I have laid out the chemotherapy treatments on a daily calender, and spreadsheet.  I have added them to a Google calendar and linked it to both my brothers as well.

I leave on August 30th.  What happens then?

Why are we working so hard to save her, when she wants nothing to do with being saved?

 

wtf 

Doing the right thing with RESENTMENTS!!!

56467-48128I am struggling a lot in this care-giver/daughter role I am in here.

I know I am doing the right thing, but I have big, huge, woolly mammoth sized RESENTMENTS!

I resent the fact that both my brothers lives are going along as normal.  One went out to dinner Friday night, and then went to a vineyard yesterday.

The other one, who lives overseas went to a farmer’s market, the playground with his two year old, and out for lunch and drinks.

I know I am doing the right thing, but I am MAD!

I was supposed to go to a medical staff party on the beach, go to a friends summer cottage on the water for the weekend, and run a 5k road race today.

I know I am doing the right thing, but the RESENTMENTS keep closing in.

I went to a meeting yesterday, it was a woman’s meeting.  It was awesome, they give out monthly chips, I got an 8 month one!  On 8/30, when I am STILL HERE, doing the right thing, I will collect a 9 month one.  So, I have that going for me.

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My husband, who I often feel is an emotional vacuum, got up early and went to the check in at the road race and got my shirt for me.  He called me first thing this morning to tell me.  I cried, and then felt a huge RESENTMENT about being here, and doing the right thing.

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Today is 260 days.  I always try to do something special for myself on days that end with zeros.

I am going to an aerial silks class at 2 pm.  Something for me.  Something to get me out of this apartment, alone.  Something fun.  Something that may help to take away some of the detritus of these major RESENTMENTS.

2014-07-23 12.26.09

If I keep saying it over and over, maybe my attitude will change:

I know I am doing the right thing, I know I am doing the right thing, I know I am doing the right thing….